


Speculation

by LilianRoses



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Cute, Fluff, M/M, Rugby John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 09:41:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10303760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilianRoses/pseuds/LilianRoses
Summary: Speculation: the forming of a theory or conjecture without firm evidence.John 'Three Schools' Watson's rugby mates are all curious about the identity of his newest love interest. Many rumors are going around, and they are eager to tell fact from fiction. John's not telling them much, either.Little do they know.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment with a prompt or suggestion! I'll try my best ^v^/

\-----

"Sherlock is stopping by practice today. Don't embarrass me."

**_"Really?"_ **

 

John sighed and rolled his eyes. Obviously he hadn't run them hard enough if they could still gasp like that.

 

"It's not even that big of a deal. Now go grab some fluids before we start on field drills."

 

The other members of the rugby team huddled together as they guzzled water. McAdams spoke up first.

 

"So, what do you think Watson's sweetheart looks like?"

 

Everyone paused mid-swallow. No one was quite sure. John had been notoriously tight-lipped about his newest lover, offering little-to-no detail. She was wealthy, though, because she went to the prim and proper private school where tuition cost a house payment. She was a dancer, also, and very talented one if John was to be believed. They hadn't even been sure of her gender until he had given them her name.

 

"Probably blonde."

"I don't think so, Williams."

"What? He does have a history of blonde girlfriends. Remember Sarah?"

"Wasn't she a brunette?"

"Ahhhh..."

 

They all tried to think back, without much success.

 

"Well, if she's a dancer, she must be in good shape."

"I wouldn't expect much else."

"Probably thin and waifish."

 

John had (at this point) called them back over to him, but that didn't stop their conversation.

 

"I heard she's a genius."

"From who? Watson?"

"No. Her name was in the papers. She made headlines with some sort of deductive trick."

"That was Sherlock? Wasn't the person in the photo raven-haired?"

"HA! Told you she wasn't a blonde, Williams."

"Whatever, McAdams."

 

Greg Lestrade looked over at John. 

 

"Aren't you going to tell them...?"

"And miss out on this wonderful oppurtunity to teach them a lesson about speculating and gossiping?  _Never._ "

 

Greg felt a small shiver of fear when he looked over at his captain. Never let it be said that John Hamish Watson was too small and/or short to be threatening.

 

A loud car engine purred into the school's parking lot. They could see the vehicle from behind the gate of the field, and none of the players could even _pretend_ to pay attention to what they were doing. It was obvious that the car belonged to someone from a far different social class than any of the lot of them. Both car doors opened, and two individuals climbed out. The driver, the very definition of a femme fatale, scanned the field in front of her like a homing missile. Blood-red lips curled into a deadly smirk, and she put a hand on her hip and spoke to her companion. 

 

She couldn't have been John's 'honeybee'. She didn't seem like the type.

 

That meant the other was the one. She was pretty lean, without an inch of excess fat on her. Her black hair was short and curly, but she still had to toss her head a bit to keep it out of her eyes. Full lips, tall physique, crystal-blue eyes...they could see how Sherlock Holmes had caught their captain. The pair started walking towards the field, but something seemed...off. Sherlock was still many times more graceful than any of them could hope to be, but her stride...something wasn't one-hundred percent about it. John had since seen them both, and waved them over.

 

"Guys, this is Irene Adler and Sherlock Holmes."

"Hey."

"Hello."

 

The team's eyes widened almost comidically at the rich baritone that fell from between (what they had assumed was a female) Sherlock's lips. After a few seconds of silent staring, Sherlock looked to John.

 

"Are they alright?"

"Oh, they'll be fine. They thought you were a lady for a moment. I imagine the voice shocked them."

 

Sherlock's expression soured.

 

"Always."

"Well, you  _did_ say it was a girl's name. And you hold yourself very...posh."

"I do  _not-_ "

 

Irene had started to snicker at Sherlock's outraged outburst. He glared at her.

 

"Silence yourself, lesbian."

"I'm sorry...it's just you're homosexual, and you dance, and you're very particular about your clothing-"

" _Adler."_

 

 

The rest of the team just continued to stare. That was the last time they speculated  _anything_ concerning John Watson, or anyone associated with him.

\-----

 

 

 

 


End file.
